#jcc.start

[clarrences]

                 The discussion of politics left room for both err and controversy, especially where the recent engagement was concerned. John, for his part, supported the match; he viewed it in a light that seemed to suggest that England could have chosen far worse than Denmark, that was for certain. “I have yet to meet the princess Caroline,” he remarked simply, drawing a China dish to his mouth, “though I have met her namesake. The queen is as fluent in English as she is witticism, I must admit. Will you attend the banquet in honor of the match, or have you chosen to abstain?”

[alastorbled]

“peace is a noble ambition. alas, the english are slow to concede to terms which delineate anything less than outright victory in their eyes.”  red caresses the lower half of crystal glass, swirlled lazily upon the table as the dutchman employs the indifference of a passive shrug, “or perhaps it is the word republic which concerns them more so.”

[rhysandhunter]

It was easy to see how William might be mistaken for being a stablehand when he was currently in his oldest clothes, worn down in places with age, and making him useful by gathering up bales of hay for the horses to feed upon. Working in the stable was hardly his usual stomping ground, but with the usual lad suffering a horrible fever, William had felt the need to pitch in. Hearing the approach of footsteps, he swept a few droplets of sweat from his brow and picked up two more bales of hay. “I’ll be with you in just a second.”

[dcmediciss]

( like this for a trash starter from giuliana )

[dcvcrcaux-blog]

[ like this for a starter from hattie maybe? ]

[freedcmfcght-blog]

“look! in the bush! do you see the rabbits?” qora asked, pointing out at the little figures moving on the bottom of the bush. she was a fan of rabbits, having seen them everywhere at home and as a child she had kept a small pen of rabbits behind her house, all of them were held in her heart and had names. she had not been able to take them with her when she left and she missed them. “are they not so sweet!”

[rcsypia]

          pía had, of course, been squabbling for the majority of the morning with yet another seamstress about her next costume. she was of the opinion that this costume, ghastly in a drowsy brown colour, was meant for a goblin, not the imp she would portray in a week’s time. at wit’s end, she snatched up the design with a frustrated snarl and marched over to the nearest person in sight.                thrusting the hideous design under the unsuspecting passerby’s nose, she demanded rather furiously, “pardon me—” heaven forbid she forget her manners— “but does this look more goblin or more imp to you?”